Where There's a Will... Read online

  Copyright © 2018 by M. B. Feeney

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Copyright © M.B. Feeney 2018

  Published by M.B. Feeney

  The right of M.B. Feeney to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000.

  License Notes: This novel is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This print may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  All similarities to names, places, and events are purely coincidental.

  COVER DESIGN BY: © J.C. CLARKE

  COVER ART: © The Graphics Shed

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Her Other Works

  To those who haven’t been the best at communication when it comes to the opposite sex.

  Zoe

  Nothing Lasts Forever

  It’s amazing how plans for the future have a bad habit of changing with circumstance. Just a year ago, I’d left university with a degree in History, and was planning to go and work in the US in a museum; yet here I am, living in London running my own pub.

  Don’t get me wrong; although it’s ridiculously long hours, I love every minute of it. I miss the academic side of stuff, but I am a naturally social person, so this job suits me down to the ground. I have my regular customers who I know almost as well as my own family - better maybe considering as I have little to no contact with them – and the walk ins are often interesting to chat to as they are completely new faces.

  The long hours are a major drawback, especially when it comes to having or maintaining a social life. The majority of my friends understand and are often found propping up the bar until the early hours. Particularly on a Friday or Saturday evening when we would crank up the sound system and have a bit of a party.

  I spent most of my ‘quiet time’ on social media once all my jobs for the day were done, and as the pub was in amongst office buildings, the after-work crowd didn’t stay long, so quiet time was quite frequent Mondays to Wednesdays. Thursdays, I had a regular group of comic book collectors who came in for a few hours. A few other of the customers often laughed at the group of grown men being fans of comics, but the group were great, and never caused any trouble.

  My one member of staff, Casey, had worked for me since I’d started at The Bridge Inn, and had soon become a close friend. Between the two of us, the pub was doing well and brought in plenty of takings. We were constant fixtures behind the bar, and because of that, the punters knew they would always see a smiling and friendly face when they came in.

  In the evenings, I spent a lot of time sat at the end of the bar in the longue catching up on paperwork while Casey worked the bar. I didn’t like sitting in my tiny office when I could be a visible presence to the customers, and keep Casey company when things died down, or help if it got busy. I was always accompanied by a large cup of coffee and my phone which was usually open on my twitter app.

  I was sat in that very spot on a quiet Tuesday evening, chatting to friends around the world – my paperwork finished and cast aside - when the door to the pub opened and I nearly fell off my barstool in shock.

  It was a normal day, a bit quiet perhaps, but that tended to happen mid-month. Everyone waiting for payday. After sending Casey home, I made myself and my iPad comfy at the end of the bar.

  Just as I was having a blast of Angry Birds, the door swung open allowing the air conditioning to escape into the blazing heat outside. I jumped up and made my way behind the huge solid oak bar to wait for a drinks order. As I was putting my iPad out of harm’s way with the glasses, an American voice spoke out.

  “Five pints of beer please.” I was sure I recognised the voice; I was positive I did, but it couldn’t be him. I would have heard if he was in the country. Wouldn’t I? Turning around, I looked straight into his brown eyes and my thoughts were confirmed.

  “Sure.” I managed to sound normal even though I was screaming like a teenager inside my own head. “Take a seat and I’ll bring them over.” I indicated a group of tables behind him where the rest of his friends, bandmates, I thought to myself, were sat. I quickly poured the drinks and carried them over on a tray. Sam Hollis handed me his credit card to place behind the bar as ‘we’re staying a while’. I slotted it behind the till and grabbed my iPad to fire off a tweet.

  “HOW the FUCK did I NOT know Cosmic Tush were in the UK?” I knew I’d been out of the loop for a while, but surely, I would have heard about that. Once I’d poured and delivered their drinks, I decided to grab my cigarettes with a shaking hand and head outside to have a smoke while it was still quiet. My Twitter mentions were going crazy with people telling me that the band was in the UK shooting a new video. How could I have been so blissfully unaware? I finished my cigarette and went back inside. It was bad enough that my favourite band were in the UK, but they were sitting and drinking in my pub.

  I had been a fan of Cosmic Tush for almost five years, and three years previously, I’d managed to get to see them live. Shortly after that, the ‘cosmos’ – the collective name for the band’s fans - was flipped on its axis. Two of the members left as ‘active members’ to concentrate on other commitments. It came as a shock to most fans, but not much of a surprise. Personal lives and things going on outside the band were brought to the attention of the fans and many of them saw these other things as a negative; almost as if the band were betraying them. What the fuck ever, people needed to get over themselves.

  “I recognise you from somewhere.” I glanced up and was trapped by Will’s light eyes as he stood opposite me, a tray of empty glasses on the bar next to him. Will Harvey was almost as famous within the ‘cosmos’. He was their tour manager, merch guy, and usually directed their videos too.

  “I’m sure you say that to all the girls.” I grinned. “more of the same?” I indicated the empty glasses he’d placed on the bar.

  “Please, with whiskey chasers.” With a smile, I pulled a bottle of Jameson’s off the optic and began pouring shots, knowing it was a band favourite without needing to ask if they had a preference. “You really do look familiar.” I could feel him looking at me while I worked. I placed the whiskey on the tray and began to pour the lager.

  “Sure. In your line of work, you must meet hundreds of girls a week.” He cocked his head to one side. “Why are you looking at me like that?”<
br />
  “I’m trying to picture you in bunny ears and whiskers.” My heart skipped about three beats, never mind just the one. “It is you isn’t it?”

  Shit!

  “Hi.” I couldn’t help but think back to my first Cosmic Tush shows....

  Things had been going well. Me and my friend Gwen had planned a major road trip to catch as many of the shows as possible. We even traipsed over to France and The Netherlands and caught the shows there, seeing as we had splashed out on the European VIP ticket, The Rocket. We’d worked hard, could afford it, and got some fantastic gifts with it, so why not?

  With our tickets, we got two meet and greets each; four in total as we were one another’s plus ones. We had no doubt that by the time we got to the restaurant where the band were hosting their “End of Tour Party”, they were a bit fed up of our faces, but we didn’t care. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and we were making the most of it.

  For the ‘party’, we had decided, in our infinite wisdom, to dress up as our own take on the Playboy Bunny. Neither of us went the whole hog with our outfits. I wore black denim shorts with black woolly tights (it was December), my boots, and a black t-shirt with bunny ears and eyeliner whiskers. Gwen had the same ears and whiskers, but wore black leggings with navy knee high Converse.

  The Rocket ‘party’ was a get together in a small restaurant near the venue with the band and a handful of fans. A bit of a buffet had been laid on, but everyone was mingling with the band just chatting or having their photos taken. Gwen and I had hung back a little, having a couple of shots and chatting to Mary, the band’s manager, who was keeping an ever-watchful eye on things. Eventually, Ed Abraham, the drummer, approached us and complemented our outfits. One by one, we had a quick chat with each of the guys, had photos taken, and then ate some food before the band left for their sound check.

  Gwen and I had saved our final meet and greet for the last show of the tour - hence the costumes - so we stood in line and waited our turn. We managed to get Mary and Will to appear in our group photo along with us and the band. I’d managed to get myself between Preston and Will as I had wanted while Gwen was in the middle of an Ed and Sam sandwich. Both of us were grinning from ear to ear in the photo.

  That night, the atmosphere was electric. The crowd may not have been at full capacity, but we absolutely smashed it, and on occasion drowned the band out with our singing along. When Will came on stage for his cameo during the first and only time they performed Stars in Europe, I honestly thought the roof was going to collapse.

  When that show finished, there were tears, laughter and firm friendships. It was a week - or longer for some - to remember and had brought so many of us fans closer than we ever could have been speaking online alone. We had created memories that would never be forgotten together, and even if we lost contact, we’d always have those shows to look back on with pure happiness.

  I was brought back to the present day by Will waving his hands in front of my face.

  “Hey, you okay?” He asked.

  “Sorry, I was miles away.”

  “That was obvious.” Will smiled softly. “Weren’t you a big Preston fan back in the day?” I felt my face heat up at that question causing him to grin even wider. “Yeah, thought so. All the pretty ones seemed to be.”

  “Hey, you’re in my pub. I can kick you out if I decide to.” I teased him in an attempt to distract him from what he was saying, ignoring him calling me pretty. It worked.

  “Your pub? Awesome.” He eyed up the interior with a strange look on his face. “I’ll have to remember that for future reference.” He picked up the tray of drinks and went back to join the rest of the band, leaving me completely confused.

  As I watched him and the others talking and laughing, I remembered slipping over on a wet floor in front of him and Preston as we left the venue once the after-show signing was over, causing them to laugh as they helped me back to my feet as if I were some random drunk chick; time to hide again. Rather than go outside, I went out into the back room that wasn’t open to the public during the week, and tried not to hyperventilate. The cool air was working its magic, until...

  “Wow, this room is amazing!” Will had let himself behind the bar, and followed me through.

  “Hey, get out of here. This area is for staff only.” I stood up to push him back out into the public bar, but he gently grabbed my wrists.

  “Seriously, this place is beautiful.” He suddenly sounded very business-like. “I think it could work for a video.”

  Wait...what? He let go of my wrists and began to walk around the room, mumbling to himself. I heard the words ‘location’, ‘perfect’, and ‘that was easy’ as he walked around the larger room.

  “Will, can you please go back through to the other room. I need to be with the punters before they rob me blind.” Without a word, he walked straight past me and began talking to the band in fierce whispers. I simply stared at them before shaking my head as I began getting ready for shut down. The place was dead, it was late, and I still wasn’t over the shock of my favourite band being in my pub.

  “Hey, can I add a bottle of whiskey to my bill and settle it?” Sam Hollis stood on the other side of the bar, a haunted look in his usually bright eyes.

  “I’ll settle the tab, but the whiskey’s on me.” I told him, eliciting a small smile from him. I handed him his card and the bottle of Jameson.

  “Thanks, this means a lot.”

  “You look like you need it.” I was being honest, he looked ready to collapse in a heap. Had done for a while from the photos I had seen online since the breakup.

  “You’re not wrong. Thanks.” He turned around and re-joined Mary and the rest of the guys. They all gave me a smile and a wave as they traipsed out of the pub. I finished up cleaning, took the tills into the office to cash up then trudged up the stairs to my flat to crash out.

  Wednesday was delivery day. I woke up at six am to meet the draymen before sorting out the cellar so myself and Casey could actually find stuff. I’d been working for hours when Casey turned up, early as usual. She was an amazing asset, and had become my right arm. So much so that I was putting her forward for the training course to become a deputy manager in order for her to earn more money. After a quick chat, she headed into the bar to set up for opening while I waited for the lunch orders to start coming in.

  Just as I was sending the first batch of meals up in the dumb waiter to Casey, the phone rang in the office.

  “The Bridge Inn, Zoe speaking.”

  “So, that’s your name.” An American voice laughed in my ear. “It’s Will.” Will? Why the hell was he phoning the pub.

  “Er... hi. How can I help you?”

  “Don’t sound so scared. I need a favour, and am willing to pay for the privilege.” I was too shocked to be insulted at that.

  “You’re not putting me at ease here.” He burst out laughing at the indignation in my voice.

  “I didn’t mean it like that. Jeez, I’m trying to make you a business offer here.”

  “Wait, it’s not for a porn film, is it?” The words left my mouth before I could think to censor them, and Will was snorting before I could process that I’d said it.

  “No, nothing like that, either. I would like to hire the pub for a day. It would look great in the new music video for Cosmic Tush.”

  Colour me fucking shocked.

  “Say again?” Before he could answer, I told him to phone back later as food orders were coming in and I needed to go and cook. I didn’t catch his answer as I hung up and ran into the kitchen.

  All thoughts of Cosmic Tush went out of my mind as business steadily picked up, leaving me no time to do anything other than cook or serve drinks. In, what felt like a blink of an eye, it was the end of lunch, and I could finally shut the kitchen to head into my tiny office to do the midday cash check before heading out to do the banking.

  I had just finished up, and was bagging up the previous day’s takings when Casey buzzed down
on the intercom.

  “There’s a really cute American guy in the bar asking to speak to you.” Jesus Christ. He was a persistent fucker.

  “Tell him to wait there, I’m on my way out to do the banking.” I told her with a sigh. “I just need to run up and get changed first.”

  There was no way I was walking down the street in my ‘chef’s’ whites. I ran up to the bar, told Will - of course it was him - to give me five minutes before running up to the flat to change my clothes. Leggings, boots, and a shirt long enough to cover my backside later, I was back in the bar with a bag full of cash and the pub’s banking book.

  “I tried to phone, but there was no answer.” He finished his drink and passed the empty glass to Casey, who was watching us with eagle eyes whilst pretending to look busy.

  “Well, it’s been a bit busy to sit down and have a chat.” I shouldn’t have snapped, but this whole situation had thrown me.

  “That’s why I decided to come down. I had some free time, and really want to get this sorted out as soon as possible.”

  “Can it wait for about half an hour? I need to go to the post office to get the banking done, then I’m free for an hour.” He stood up and pulled his jacket on.

  “I’m capable of walking and talking at the same time.” I grabbed my own jacket, rolled my eyes at Casey and led Will outside. “I like your barmaid, very observant. Not only am I American, I am freaking adorable.”

  “Shut up, and talk.”